


The Dragon in the Pale Forest

by Cinnamonchipmunk



Series: Momento Vori [1]
Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game), Momento Vori, Original Work
Genre: Blood and Gore, Character Death, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-19
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:27:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22317070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cinnamonchipmunk/pseuds/Cinnamonchipmunk
Summary: In this game, you're either the Hunter, or the Hunted. And both have it bad.
Series: Momento Vori [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1606336
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2





	The Dragon in the Pale Forest

The cold mist blanketed over me as my vision faded back to normal, blinking as I looked at my surroundings.

This was new.

It was a forest, like a few of them were, but it was different. The trees were some kind of pine, filling the air with a fresh forest smell, each almost completely bare and looking like skeletal silhouettes with many outstretched arms. It was a little reminiscent of Mother’s Dwelling with the lack of manmade structures in my field of view, but the fog was incredibly dense. Which told me that either someone threw a Murky Reagent in the fire or this was just natural for the Realm.

It could go either way honestly.

I shivered, my limbs unfreezing and my body overwhelmed for a second at just existing, each round starting with me trying to not make any noise as the cold permeated me.

The Entity has started the game.

And what a twisted game it was, forcing four people to try and cooperate on a way out by restarting generators to open doors while also forced to be almost deadly silent lest the hunter is alerted to their presence. Cat and mouse, overruled by an unknown Puppeteer for entertainment and sacrifice, everlasting blood soaking into the soil beneath our feet with each new match.

I carefully started making my way around the play area, knowing that if you went too far you’d see an inexplicable fence enclosing everything, cat and mouse alike. The fog was so thick, I barely saw the flashing of a generator’s lights as it waited to be turned on, walking towards it. Until I heard a voice.

“Hello?! Is anyone there?!”

“Shit,” my eyes widened as I turned to the voice, heart dropping a little in my chest. Quickly, I sprinted towards the voice. Not to help them, not as they’ll see it, but to shut them up.

I soon saw them. Male, dark skin, black jacket and blue jeans. Looking confused, just like everyone else who first woke up in this game. A chill went up my spine, putting me further on edge as I continued to run as fast as I could.

He saw me, or perhaps heard me, and looked towards me. I saw his eyes widen and confusion flicker across his face mixed with wariness.

He was far taller than me, so he was probably wondering whether or not I was a threat as I got closer, before opening his mouth and going, “Wh-What’s going-?”

I slowed my momentum enough to not completely tackle him to the ground as my heart began to pound in my ears, jumping up a bit to slam my hand against his mouth. And as he stumbled back, I used his surprise to push him behind the nearest tree or boulder, pulling him against me as much as I could so I could whisper to him.

“Stay quiet and absolutely still, or you’ll get us both killed,” I hissed, tensing when he finally regained enough sense to struggle.

And he would have easily been able to throw me off if he hadn’t also realized that something was wrong, oh so very wrong. Afterall, your heartbeat isn’t supposed to be that loud in your chest right? Did anyone else feel the dark twisting in their insides like you didn’t belong here? Could anyone else hear it?

Could THEY hear it?

I didn’t dare look around the tree to see which one it was, to see what would probably be my nightmare for the night. To see and feel the homicidal gaze as predator looked at prey, targeting you with the knowledge that if you didn’t move and fast, you would be hung up like a trophy. But I heard the footsteps crunching over the dead needles coating the forest floor, tilting my head as adrenaline helped fuel my senses.

If they had footsteps, they weren’t the Nurse, the Spirit, or Plague. Their footsteps were too light for Trapper, Clown, Doctor, or Cannibal. Their steps were too purposeful to be Hillbilly or Hag. There was no humming through the trees or lilting music in my head, so not Huntress or Nightmare. Unless the Wraith was visible or Pig decided to go for a walk instead of crouching, the only ones left were Legion or Shape.

And god I hated both. But who would want to be trapped here for what was likely an eternity?

We both listened for what felt like forever, eventually the sound of machinery snapping under clumsy hands catching the killer’s attention and I waited until the pounding went away, the chill up my spine leaving me. With a small sigh, I pulled away, resting against the bark a little tiredly. After a long enough time doing this, you were just always drained. Maybe it was the constant loss of blood.

“What the hell was that,” the guy whispered, a little panicky, understandably so.

“The what is simple,” I looked at him a little boredly, trying to push the numbness away so that I could try to be a little more sympathetic. No one needed to be empathetic out here, we all knew what each other lived through. “They’re a Killer. The question is who?”

“Wait, killer?! As in, a serial killer?”

Eyes widening a little at him raising his voice, I gestured for him to tone it down, watching him panic momentarily and glance around.

With a sigh, I straightened, replying, “I’m not sure it counts as a serial killer if it’s the same people most of the time.”

Standing up, I looked around and saw the glowing of the generator, starting to stalk towards it.

Of course, he got up and followed behind me, now twitching and flinching at every sudden noise or sound that rang through the forest.The sound of two generators turning on echoed, feeling mildly impressed and relieved that the other two were able to coordinate that so well, even if it wasn’t on purpose. Because now the Killer had to choose a target.

“What do you mean the same people?”

“Death doesn’t work here,” I stated, kneeling beside the generator as we finally reached it. Reaching my hands inside, I began to tinker with the wires and components.

“You mean, we can’t be hurt,” he asked, confusion on his face when I glanced up.

“Oh, we get hurt… Plenty. And you’ll get your fair share,” I admitted, almost crossing two wires which would have likely brought the Killer’s attention to us.

As if to accentuate my point, a scream echoed through the forest, making adrenaline flood my veins again and my heart to skip a beat. The sound cut my attention and a loud explosion made my ears ring and my eyes to have spots in them.

“Go,” I told him sternly, trying to keep from panicking. “Find the other survivor while I go help this one. There’s only four of us, and everyone counts!”

I didn’t look back to see if he listened, running into the foliage as a second scream startled ravens from the trees. For a moment, my vision blurred and I could see where the survivor had been downed before they were picked up and whatever link I had was lost. I slowed my pace to not disturb my surroundings as I creeped towards where I had sensed the survivor.

Another scream, this one making my blood curdle in my veins and almost vomit.

“God, that hurts,” I murmured, feeling a phantom pain in my chest where I had been run through by the hooks myself multiple times, spurred by the far too familiar sound.

But the scream gave me a really good idea of where they had been hooked and I made my way over. The sound of the third generator running made me feel a little relieved. It would distract the killer from the hook, the sheer thought of the hope making me run faster through the area. Eventually, I came across the hook.

The survivor, female in a sweater and shorts, hung limply. She was already familiar with the procedure thankfully, glancing up at me with a small smile as I rushed over and pried her from the rusty metal. A small grace in being in what I could only assume was Purgatory is that you don’t get Tetanus from the weapons and hooks.

“Thank you,” she whispered and I nodded, helping lead her away from the hook to heal her.

We’d met once or twice before. She was nice, I supposed, ready to lend a helping hand when able.

Hidden in a corner, I began to heal her wounds quickly, patching things up as much as I could. She only needed to last the rest of the round, since once we either died or escaped we reformed without injury. Physical injury at least.

The heartbeat began to thrum in my ears, but I stayed silent, brow furrowing as I concentrated.

“Who is it?”

“A new one,” she murmured, making my hands still as I finished bandaging her.

“How new,” I asked, tensing as the heartbeat got closer, both of us crouching on the ground.

“I don’t know. I’ve only seen them once before.”

I frowned at the response, but we quieted when we could hear footsteps in the trees. Mulling it over, I carefully moved closer to the edge of the tree and peered around it, hoping the thick fog would prevent them from seeing me.

They stood there, a dark silhouette in the dense fog. It was difficult to make out too much detail, but they were wearing a mask it seemed like, but instead of ears like Huntress they more resembled horns. The eyes glowed a disconcertingly vivid purple, making it hard to see the details of the mask or much else as they gazed around.

I didn’t realize I was staring to try and figure out the details until I was pulled back by the other girl. I gave her a small grateful nod, breath hitching in my throat a little at the surprise. But the figure walked away almost immediately after as the fourth generator rang out.

I gave the girl an excited smile. Maybe we’d get out without much of a fuss.

But of course, the Entity was against us.  
\------------

He loved the fog, but he was getting frustrated.

He had learnt time meant nothing here, but it felt like it had been about fifteen minutes before he had been able to down his first Survivor of the round, four generators already running and whirring. He didn’t see where they had run off to, cursing a little to himself mentally as he gazed around for the trails the Entity would let him see if a Survivor was bleeding or running and disturbing the soil. Unfortunately, the thick fog made it almost impossible and the sound of another generator going up made him reluctantly move to down a different Survivor.

He was the newest addition to the Entity’s arsenal and he’d stepped into the role fairly well. Like anyone else when he first appeared, he had questions. But the other Killer’s had been nice enough to fill him in on the situation and their role in the Entity’s game.

Well, some of them. The others either didn’t want to talk or they couldn’t, but that was fine. Doctor, Clown, and Legion already spoke enough in his opinion. Probably the most helpful were also the ones that had existed in this Hell the longest: Trapper, Wraith, and Hillbilly. Trapper was, of course, the most talkative of the trio. Hillbilly’s words came out warped despite best efforts and Wraith mostly stood to the side nodding or shaking his head at questions.

Most harbored some level of a bloodlust, but that wasn’t only just due to each having committed their own crimes. Each unsuccessful hunt they were punished, and no one remembered what it was, or if it was even physical. All they remembered afterwards was a lingering pain and a determination to be a better hunter.

Of course, the Survivors got better over time too, their role itself the punishment. The role to continuously come back to be slaughtered time and again.

And while he was new, he’d already had a decent amount of kills and even a round or two completely won, but this was probably the worst match he’d had yet. Perhaps the Entity had started him off easy before and was amping up it’s difficulty, or maybe this time the Survivors started actually coordinating better. All he knew was that the Entity’s presence and his own instincts were urging him to hunt.

He wished he could have guarded his prize, but the Entity had it’s rules and it wanted all of its players to follow them. The other Killers had explained that if one ‘camped’ too much, the Entity would punish them, even if all Survivors were sacrificed. It led to an almost symbiotic relationship between predator and prey.

Movement caught his attention and he caught the glimpse of a Survivor in the distance, locking onto his new target as he slowly caught up and even attempted to anticipate the Survivors motions. Of course, they went for a palette, but they jumped the gun on knocking it down. Without being stunned, he was able to slam his foot down on the old wood, shattering it to splinters beneath him before he continued his pursuit.

Whoever the Survivor was, they looked like a hobo he decided as he swung once and slashed through the back of their coat. Blood coated the three edged blade and he wiped some off with his thumb. There was no functionality to it, but more ritualistic in nature.

Even he wasn’t sure why he adhered to it.

The Survivor tried to put distance between himself and them, making him tilt his head in slight amusement. Afterall, they just ran into one of the more open spaces in his Realm. So it took almost no time at all to catch up once more and swing, this time knocking the Survivor to the ground as he wiped blood from his blade.

Hoisting the Survivor onto his shoulder, he walked to the nearest hook, keeping his pace as steady as possible with the wriggling person on his shoulder. Lifting them up, he stabbed the dull metal through their chest, blood covering the rust as they screamed.

The screams when he hooked them always lingered in his ears a few seconds after they stopped, but he was slowly becoming desensitized to them.

Glancing the Survivor over like a macabre trophy, he resisted the urge to guard his prize, turning away and walking off to find the other survivors. He came across a new face, and, based on their primal scream when they turned the corner and saw him, an entirely new Survivor. It was probably the same one that had been calling out earlier that he hadn’t been able to find.

They instantly turned tail and ran in the opposite direction, smacking into a boulder before jumping up and continuing in their panic. He resisted the urge to sigh at the very dramatic, though understandable, response. Sometimes they were amusing, but he felt the Survivor he’d hooked get taken down, and there were already four generators running. To put it simply, he wasn’t in the mood for theatrics right now.

It was almost too easy to down the new Survivor, picking up the lanky male and hooking them with ease.

And over the next while, he was able to prevent them from completing their last generator and even hooked the three Survivors he’d caught before once more. The only issue was that there was another Survivor that he hadn’t even seen that seemed to be the one that kept unhooking the others to allow them to continue on their goal to open the gates.

But everyone else was on their last legs and all he needed was to down them and hook them one last time.

The final generator pinged, making him growl in frustration at the sound, but it meant that the Survivors were probably running for the gates to try and escape, narrowing the probable places they would be.

And lo and behold, as he approached one of the gates, the new Survivor was already there and pulling on the lever with all their might as though that would cause it to open faster. When their eyes locked, they instantly took their hand off the cold metal, but he was already next to him and cut the flesh of his arm before the both of them ran. They tried to jump through a windowframe and he was able to grab hold of their ankle, making them almost faceplant into the wood before he yanked them onto his shoulder.

With the intent to take them to the basement, he entered the shack that was in his Realm, humming with satisfaction at finally being able to sacrifice one of the Survivors. A tug on his tail, sharp and rough, made him snarl in surprise. Whipping around to face who or what had snagged him (He had gotten his tail caught in palettes and lockers before), his attention was caught.

It was the fourth Survivor.

\------------

“Fuck, that thing’s real,” I exclaimed, dropping the tail in surprise. I had thought it was a decoration like some of the other costumes Killers wore, but I had felt the flesh and scales beneath my fingers.

Looking up, my gaze met the purple glow from the eye holes in the mask, the rest of it blank. They were obviously angry and probably expected me to turn tail and run after having gotten their attention. But ignoring instinct and logic, I straightened as much as I could and kept my stare firm.

“Drop him,” I demanded, glancing at the new Survivor as he continued to struggle. He’d already gotten hooked twice, which was obviously painful, but death here made those seem like papercuts in comparison.

I couldn’t tell what they were thinking, but whatever staring contest we were having was broke when the new Survivor was able to break loose and stun the Killer.

“Both gates are open, just look for the red lights,” I called out after him as he sprinted away. I stayed for a moment longer as the Killer straightened before following after him, placing myself between Survivor and Killer alike. As the heartbeat began to catch up, I saw the red lights in the distance of the gates, seeing the silhouette of the girl. The last survivor had already left the second the gate had opened.

Directing the newbie to the gate, I cried out as a sharp pain across my side and back bloomed, the momentum from the Killer’s swing pushing me forward. You’d think after countless rounds and matches you’d get somewhat desensitized to the constant pain, but each time it was as though the body had never felt such pain before even with the blurred memories from past trials.

But we were at the gate.

The girl glanced at me with concern as she helped the new Survivor out into the void, both disappearing at having escaped the match. Escaping was almost blissful, each success giving the Survivors a comfortable feeling, the only comfort we had except for each other at the campfire.

I stopped at the threshold, looking back at the Killer as they stopped and stared at me. It seemed they weren’t too new to not know that if they hit me now they’d just knock me into the invisible barrier that allowed us to leave. Staring at each other, I was able to take in their full appearance in the light of the exit and their tail flicked behind them in agitation. It certainly felt like they were glaring at me.

“See you later,” I couldn’t help but give a slightly smug smile as I stepped back into the void, feeling my aches fade and the wound that had spanned on my side healed.

After a few seconds of the bliss, I blinked and found myself by the campfire again.


End file.
